


building a castle in the sky

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-29
Updated: 2007-05-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:37:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8729233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: "Jensen always gets picked up last."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title** \- building a castle in the sky  
**Pairing** \- Jared/Jensen  
**Rating** \- R  
**Word Count** \- 1600  
  
  
  
  
  
_**building a castle in the sky**_  
  
  
  
Jensen always gets picked up last.   
  
In the beginning he claimed it was easier that way. His hotel was closer to the set. It made more sense for the truck to get Jared, loop west and then head off for the day. He was doing it to make everyone’s lives easier. It was better for gas mileage. He was conscientious about the environment.   
  
Blah, blah, blah.  
  
After about a week, Jared looked at him with one eyebrow raised and said, “You _never_ wake up on time, do you?”  
  
Jensen leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. Busted.   
  
*  
  
“Script changes,” Jared says, and tosses a thick binder in Jensen’s lap.   
  
Jensen pulls the door closed behind him and pushes the lock down. He nods a good morning to the driver and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “What are they?”  
  
Jared shrugs. “I dunno. They were waiting for me on the seat when I got in this morning.” He hands Jensen his coffee. Black with two sugars, just how Jensen likes it. Jensen peels back the plastic top. Blows on the steam. Next to him Jared slurps on something huge and frozen with whipped cream on top.   
  
Outside the sky is grey, still holding onto the last few minutes of night. Inside, Jensen breaks off a piece of his coffee lid and throws it at Jared’s head. Jared turns to look at him, his parka rustling against the seat. He has a red scarf wrapped around his neck, and when he smiles it’s brighter than the sun.   
  
“Check out page sixteen,” Jared says. “I think you have to cry again.”   
  
There’s a spot of whipped cream on Jared’s top lip. Jensen wants to lick it off. He makes himself look away, out the window at the streetlamps that are just starting to flicker out. He watches the pavement disappear under the truck’s tires, and thinks about Jared. About being with Jared every day. Wanting Jared. Wanting to tell him--   
  
“Probably just depressed that his brother’s such a pussy,” is what Jensen finally says, tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth.   
  
Jared laughs and goes to shove him. Jensen makes himself smile back.  
  
*  
  
Jensen gets in the truck to the smell of something warm and sweet.   
  
“Oh, god, what _is_ that?” he asks over his rumbling stomach.   
  
Jared beams at him. “My new cologne?”  
  
“Don’t be an ass.” Jensen sniffs again. _God_ that smells good. He pokes around on the floor, under his seat. Jared is just sitting there, grinning like a mental patient, and after a few minutes, Jensen gives up, throws his hands in the air. “You have food somewhere, Padalecki, and you’re holding out on me. Hand it over.”  
  
Jared laughs quietly and reaches down next to his seat. He comes back with a white bakery bag, sugar and grease leaking through the paper. Jensen’s mouth waters and he swears his dick almost goes hard.   
  
“Cinammon rolls?” He can barely keep from yanking the bag from Jared’s hand.   
  
Jared must see Jensen twitching and takes pity. He tosses the bag onto his lap. “All for you, Princess.”  
  
*  
  
“Check out the new shit I downloaded last night,” Jared says, and shoves an iPod bud in Jensen’s ear.   
  
Jensen flails. He doesn’t even have the goddamned door closed yet and—“Dude, wait. _Wait_.” He flaps his hands again, shuts the door, and waits for the truck to start moving before turning to Jared who’s bouncing in his seat like a hyperactive puppy. “Okay. Morning, Jared.”  
  
“Right. Morning. Now listen to—“   
  
Jensen shuts up and leans back, closing his eyes as tinny emo music filters into his left ear. Jared wants him to hear something, and it’s way too early for Jensen to argue. He’ll never win anyway. Better to just let Jared do what he wants, and then after, Jensen can drink his coffee and they can run some lines like normal.   
  
He can almost _feel_ Jared grinning as he sits there, though, and it forces Jensen to open his eyes. “What?”  
  
Jared’s in one of his standard ugly shirts with a knitted snow hat on his head. His cheeks are pink from the cold. He rolls a hand in the air as Jensen waits, and finally says, “You like it, right?”   
  
Jensen’s barely been paying attention to the music. Instead he watches Jared’s eyes and mouth. His hands in the air and his slow smile.   
  
“Yeah,” he finally says, swallowing hard. “It’s awesome.”  
  
*  
  
“Can you close the window?”  
  
Jared turns to look at Jensen, wind blowing the hair around his face. “What?”  
  
Jensen blows into his hands. “Crack of dawn, Jared? Really fucking cold outside? I had to get thrown around by a zombie all night last night and my back is killing me?”  
  
“Oh, sorry, man.” Jared apologizes and closes the window.   
  
Jensen cracks his neck and moans. He feels stiff and sore and not at all good enough to head in for another sixteen-hour day. Yesterday and last night were hard shoots, and Jensen didn’t get nearly enough sleep before his alarm was going off this morning, giving him half an hour to shower and get dressed before the truck got there. Jared had gotten him coffee, but unless Jensen could pour it on his aching back he didn’t think it was going to be much help.   
  
The feel of Jared’s hands on the back of his neck have Jensen nearly jumping out of his seat. “What the hell?”  
  
”Easy, Jensen. Settle down.” Jared’s fingers curl strong and warm over his skin. They slip under the collar of Jensen’s t-shirt, thumbs pressing down hard against bone.   
  
Jensen shivers. Jared’s hands feel so good. They feel like freaking magic, and Jensen knows they have a thousand things to do – go over lines, work on the blocking for the day – but he can’t make himself pull away from Jared’s touch.   
  
“Better?” Jared’s close enough that the breath from his words stir the hair on Jensen’s neck. Jensen could swear he feels the tip of Jared’s nose brushing along his skin, but then there’s the sting of cool air, and Jared moving away, clapping one hand on Jensen’s shoulder and giving him just a quick squeeze.   
  
“Yeah. ‘M’good,” Jensen says, and leans back, picking his script up from the floor.   
  
*  
  
Jensen’s hungover. Dead tired, body aching, head pounding, hungover. He didn’t even get to sleep last night after…after…  
  
When the truck pulls up outside his hotel, Jensen dips his head and shoves his hands in his pockets.   
  
Jared’s already sitting in the truck, waiting like normal. He smiles when Jensen climbs in next to him, pulling the door closed and locking it before the truck pulls away. Jensen looks up and finds Jared smiling. His hair is still damp from his shower, blue and white striped shirt open at the neck.   
  
“Mornin’,” Jensen croaks, then clears his throat.   
  
Jared flashes him a grin. “Mornin’.”  
  
Jensen doesn’t know where to sit, what to do with his hands. If this were any normal day he’d look around for his coffee, maybe tease Jared a little, suggest they work on their lines. But this…this is…  
  
Today, Jensen knows what Jared tastes like. How his eyes go soft and fuzzy after he’s had a few too many drinks at the bar. How he feels, pressed against Jensen’s side as they’re playing pool, the tips of his fingers brushing against Jensen’s waist whenever he passes.   
  
Jensen knows what Jared looks like when his eyes crinkle at the corners, his head tipped to the side before he pulls Jensen out of the bar, fingers hooked through Jensen’s beltloops. He knows what Jared looks like calling for a cab. Getting them both back to Jared’s room, before pushing Jensen against the wall, kissing him until Jensen goes weak and stupid with need.   
  
This morning, Jensen knows what Jared looks like in bed.   
  
He knows how it feels to have Jared arching up under his hands, biting at Jensen’s neck and shoulders, pulling him down so they lay tangled together in Jared’s sheets. He knows how Jared likes to be kissed. How he wants Jensen’s hands. How he sounds when he tells Jensen to touch him, there, right there, like that, _god_.  
  
Jensen knows what Jared looks like when he comes, and it’s nothing he ever wants to unlearn.   
  
The truck hits a bump, and Jensen’s dragged back to today, now, this morning. Jared looks as sleepy and heavy-eyed as Jensen feels. They just called for a cab to get Jensen back to his own room about an hour ago, and the whole idea of trying to act like this is an ordinary day, that everything’s normal and nothing has changed is looking to be harder than Jensen had thought.   
  
“Here,” Jared finally says, and hands Jensen his cup of coffee. Jensen smiles, bends back the plastic and breaks a piece off to throw at Jared’s head. Jared goes to shove him, and Jensen laughs, holding his cup up and out of the way.   
  
A minute later, Jared’s hand is still on Jensen’s thigh. He can feel the press of fingers through denim. The curve of Jared’s hand on him.   
  
Jensen doesn’t say anything, but he shifts closer to Jared in his seat, and Jared smiles.   
  
Outside the window, the roads pass by, the ground slipping quietly under the tires. A streetlight flickers off. Jensen nudges Jared’s shoulder and stares straight ahead, watching as the sun starts to rise.   
  
  
-end-


End file.
